Then I set my phone down and stared outside the window. The city of Chicago was spread out before me. People were going on with their night without a care in the world, unlike me, who was overthinking every decision that I had made in the last five minutes.
I couldn’t believe she was on a date. Jealousy wasn’t something I was proud of. It was messy. Complicated and completely inappropriate in this situation. Even I couldn’t deny that was exactly what I was feeling.
I tried to distract myself by watching mindless reels on my phone, but the longer I scrolled, the more agitated I became. I sat on the edge of the bed, balancing my forearms on my thighs.
I was so focused on being careful and respectful that I allowed someone else to swoop in. Now, I regretted it. And quite frankly, I was done being fucking noble.
I pulled up our text exchange and tapped out another message.
Me
Go to dinner with me when I get back.
The three dots jumped across the screen and then stopped. It was taking her forever to answer. I had to remind myself that I was the idiot interrupting her date.
Becca
You’re seriously asking me this while I’m out with someone else?
I winced, then smiled.
Me
Yeah, I guess I am.
I pictured her looking down at her phone, then back at the guy across from her. She was probably feeling guilty. I didn’t like that image, but I was the one who put us in this situation to begin with.
Becca
Do you want to meet to discuss the article?
Me
No.
There was a pause in her reply. It was long enough for me to second-guess sending her that text.
Me
Just consider it, please?
Becca
You should be focusing on your game this weekend.
She had a point. This season mattered, but so did this.
Me
Fine. How about this? If I score a touchdown tomorrow, will you let me take you to dinner?
Becca
There is a chance you won’t.
She clearly didn’t know me that well when I was this motivated.
Me
